


you make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong

by xxPayne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Christmas, Domestic, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, No Smut, Poor Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxPayne/pseuds/xxPayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Curly?” Louis says, stepping into Harry’s sight. “You okay?”<br/>Harry looks up from where he has two things in his hands, a thick winter coat sized for a newborn, and a sweatshirt fitting a grown man such as himself. He looks up at Louis, stricken, and holds them out for him to see. “They’re the same price,” he says. “They’re both forty dollars! Forty dollars for such little material.”</p><p>(or, Harry is pregnant and stops at the mall to buy cheap baby clothes. Louis has extra money from working a long shift, and he can't think of a better way to spend it than on him.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's November! I've held out on writing another Christmas au for weeks now, so I'm pretty proud of myself. This was unbelievably hard to tag and write a summary for, for some reason. Anyway, I hope you like this!
> 
> **The Zayn in this story does not represent my views of the actual Zayn.
> 
> Title from The One by Kodaline.

The day seemed to drag on as customer after customer came streaming through the mall’s doors, all of them snappy and impatient and just plain rude. Louis is ready to scream at the very next person who even approaches his gift-wrapping station, especially if he hears the words, “I thought this was free! Why would I tip?” one more time. It’s only half way through his shift and he wants to take his spool of wrapping paper and shove it _directly_ up someone’s bum.

It’s even worse because he has to work alone, as his coworker took the day off to drive home in time for Christmas in a week. Apparently Louis is the only person that doesn’t have family out of the country, so he stupidly accepted the three times raise for working tonight.

He’s regretting the decision deeply, as he doesn’t have a single break long enough to even buy himself a coffee. That’s probably why he’s so grouchy that he doesn’t notice _him_ at first.

The boy looks to be a few years younger than Louis, with curly hair just shiny enough to be considered healthy rather than greasy. And from this distance, Louis can tell he has clear green eyes, more colorful than the plentiful mistletoe that’s been hung all over the mall, and soft, pale skin which contrasts nicely with his pink lips. His clothes, though, are a bit… Ratty. It’s just a plain gray t-shirt—a t-shirt, in this weather?—and worn down black jeans with an old pair of boots. He’s facing directly towards Louis, so at first he can’t see much, until he turns sideways, and—okay. Yeah, he’s definitely pregnant.

Louis can’t help feeling a little disappointed, letting the idea of asking him out slip from his mind. Still, it’s a bit worrying to see how he’s not wearing a jacket while there’s basically a blizzard going on outside, and if he’s pregnant, that makes it so much worse. He looks confused as he runs his fingers through his hair, frowning when it catches on a knot. Before Louis can think about it, he’s calling across the busy hall, “Do you need some help, Curly?”

It takes him more than a second to realize Louis is talking to him, but when he does, he scampers through the crowd and stops right in front of his booth, wringing his—ridiculously long, he notices—fingers together. “Erm, maybe, do you know where I can find really cheap winter baby clothes?”

Louis ponders this, running through the options. _Organic Mommies_ wouldn’t suit him, because they’re horribly overpriced, but that’s the only baby place he can think of in the mall. “I think the department store has some? Dunno how cheap they are, though, mate.”

The boy—man?—seems disappointed, but he nods and smiles wide enough that two dimples appear in the creases of his cheeks. “Dimples!” Louis blurts before he can stop himself.

“Uh, yeah,” Curly nods, barking out a surprisingly loud laugh. “M’ names not actually Dimples, though. Or Curly.”

Louis’ brain is telling him to end the conversation, as this is dangerous territory. Friendly banter with strangers is pretty much how every single one of his relationships started, and as nice as this stranger seems, he’s probably got a husband at home, if his giant stomach is any indication. Not only that, Louis is still in college, it’d be a bad, bad idea to trust him with a baby for an hour, let alone date someone who’s about to have one. Still, his heart is fluttering just the slightest; it’s enough to make him say, “Oh, yeah? Well tell me, then, what _is_ your name?”

“Harry.” He says.

“Harry?” Louis asks incredulously. “Then I wasn’t far off, Curly!”

That makes Harry laugh so hard that he puts one hand on his stomach and the other on the table in front of him to stabilize himself. And, well, if Louis can make him laugh that hard over a stupid _hair_ joke, he wonders how joyless his life must be, and then feels bad for speculating about a stranger’s happiness. Plus, it serves to remind him how of why he shouldn’t be flirting with Harry.

“So anyway,” Louis says. “Your best bet for the kids clothes is that store over there. But if you can’t find anything, then come back here and we can figure something out.”

Harry does this silly army salute as he walks away in that direction, turning around to smile at Louis while still moving backwards, and nearly running straight into a woman pushing a stroller. “Oh my—Sorry, ma’am!”

The fond laugh that bubbles out of Louis’ throat is entirely unwelcome, especially because he doubts he’ll ever see Harry again. When the curly-haired boy is finally out of sight, Louis goes back to his job, slumping over the tall desk as he waits for his next customer. He really should be calling out for people, trying to find business, but he can’t be bothered.

An hour later, the tips of his fingers are numb from countless paper cuts and incessant folding, and there’s been so sign of Harry. Louis’ shift is ending, finally, as the mall is going to close in just a bit. Despite himself, he can’t just leave without making sure Harry found what he was looking for, and he also kind of wants to give him his coat—he needs it more than Louis, who is very decidedly _not_ pregnant. So he packs up his stuff, closes up the booth, and makes his way into the department store that Harry vanished in. It doesn’t take long to find the children’s section, and just two aisles in, he sees Harry’s boot-clad feet sticking out of the hall, like he’s just lying on the floor. Louis speeds up his pace, wondering frantically if Harry had fallen and _died_ and if everyone has been simply stepping over him like _trash_.

He feels only mildly stupid when he sees that Harry is alive and well, sitting propped against one of the stands with his feet straight out in front of him. Only mildly, because _why_ is Harry sitting on the floor of the mall?

“Curly?” Louis says, stepping into Harry’s sight. “You okay?”

Harry looks up from where he has two things in his hands, a thick winter coat sized for a newborn, and a sweatshirt fitting a grown man such as himself. He looks up at Louis, stricken, and holds them out for him to see. “They’re the same price,” he says. “They’re both _forty_ dollars. Forty dollars for such little material.”

Louis squints his eyebrows and says, “Yeah, when my mom was pregnant with my baby sisters, she bought all their clothes from yard sales and stuff. Much cheaper.”

“I would, except, you know. It’s three degrees below zero and hasn’t stopped snowing for a week, so not many garage sales,” It should sound sassy, but coming from Harry it only sounds exasperated. “Anyway, I’m gonna buy this one.”

He sets the adult jacket on the shelf next to him and fixes the tag on the baby one, scanning it one last time for rips in the seams or any other defaults. When he’s satisfied, he puts a hand on the floor and grips the shelf with the other, barely lifting himself off the ground before grumbling and attempting to roll over. “Harry,” Louis whispers, trying not to burst out laughing, as he thinks that would be a little offensive. “Harry, let me help.”

Even though he doesn’t look happy about it, he takes a hold of Louis’ outstretched hand and lets himself be pulled up to his feet. “Thanks,” he mutters sheepishly.

Louis walks next to Harry all the way to the checkout. It’s not really following, though, because if Harry seemed even a bit creeped out, he’d leave right away. He’s just worried, okay? Because he’s seen a lot of poor people, having been working at the mall for a few years now, and if Harry is having to choose between a jacket for himself and a coat for his baby, then he’s obviously struggling, and Louis just feels like he shouldn’t have to be—especially during the holidays. “Hey, Harry?” Louis starts, as they start leaving the kid’s section. When Harry gives him a nod to continue, he asks, “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but when is your baby due?”

Harry smiles down at his ginormous tummy and says, “December 28th is when I’ve got the C-section scheduled.”

“Jesus, that’s next week!” Louis gasps. “Shouldn’t you be on bed-rest or something?”

For all the time Louis has spent with babies in his life, with his mom being a midwife and having seven kids of her own, one might think Louis would know a bit about pregnancy, except that he has a habit of blocking out any talk of it—not because it’s gross, or anything, just boring, and it seemed like he wouldn’t need that information until he was much, much older. So, he doesn’t know much at all about having a baby, he just figures that once you’re a certain stage, you’re not supposed to be out and about.

Harry shakes his head while he laughs so hard a few tears spring in the corners of his eyes. His dimples are so deep and enchanting. “No, no, if you’re healthy, you can be walking around ‘til the second you give birth. If you’re doing it naturally, sometimes they make you take a walk to speed it up a bit.”

“Oh,” Louis frowns at being wrong. “Well, still, if I was about to have a baby, I’d be using it for every excuse in the book. Like, ‘sorry, I can’t come to your party because I’m pregnant’ and ‘whoops, can’t do that math assignment because look how pregnant I am’. You’re wasting a _brilliant_ opportunity! You’ve only got a week left to do it.”

For a second, Louis worries that he’s insulted him, but then Harry emits another bout of loud cackling which warms Louis’ heart down to its very core. He tries to convince himself that it’s just because he likes making _everyone_ laugh, but—Harry’s dimples are adorable, okay?

“But anyway,” Louis says. “I was going to say, before I got distracted, that I want to buy your baby a toy.”

That makes Harry’s laughter abruptly stop, as he whips his head around to stare at Louis curiously, and a little apprehensively. “You what? I don’t even know your name.”

Louis blushes deeply, looking at his feet as he regrets even opening his mouth. “It’s Louis. My name is Louis. And—I promise there’s no strings attached. I just want to buy you a present. Usually I buy a whole bunch of stuff for that Toys for Tots thing, but I didn’t do much this year, so I want to give one to you.”

That’s true, though Harry doesn’t need to know that Louis actually donated _more_ toys this year than last. He’s afraid Harry will say no if he tells him that. After just a few more convincing words, Harry finally cracks and says, “I—I guess you could buy, like, a blanket? One of those teddy bear blanket things? Or is that too much?”

Louis shakes his head and leads Harry back into the toy section, finding the aisle with newborn-safe things. It looks like they may be out of them, but finally, at the very end of the row, there’s a small brown cloth, soft as silk, but warm as wool, with a tiny teddy bear head sitting at the top. “Like this?” Louis holds it out for Harry, who takes it in his hands delicately. He’s treating it like a prized possession, barely applying pressure to it as if it will break. Louis wants to find amusement in it, but it only makes him feel sad. He can’t imagine what little amount of things Harry must have if he’s acting like a ten dollar baby blanket costs a fortune. It gets even worse when Harry suddenly starts crying, hastily wiping the tears away, but not fast enough for Louis to not see. “Oh, Harry, babe, it’s no big deal. It’s just a blanket—I-I can buy you something else? Like, maybe this rattle?”

He grabs the first thing he sees, a rattle meant for tiny fingers. It’s so small that it barely makes any noise at all when he shakes it. That only makes Harry cry harder, now hiccupping out a sob as he clutches the blanket tighter. “You’re so—” hiccup. “Sweet. I can’t—” hiccup. “Take this from you.”

“No, no, seriously. I got paid a ton for working today, I’ve got plenty extra. Let me buy it for you.”

Harry turns his head so he can wipe his tears on his shoulder and then nods reluctantly. “You—You should give me your phone number, so I can pay you back. Only if you want to, though, of course.”

Louis immediately nods and asks for Harry’s phone so he can enter his number. It shouldn’t be so shocking when he sees that it’s an old flip phone, based on everything that just happened, but it still is. Louis hasn’t held a flip phone in nearly ten years. “Don’t worry about it, Harry, I swear. It’s a _gift_. If it makes you feel better, I’m not even really giving you anything, just your kid.”

Harry laughs wetly and slides his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, as they start walking towards the check-out once more. “It really—it means a lot to me, Louis.”

As they get to the counter, Louis has another idea, one more thing he can do to hopefully make things a little easier for Harry. Harry pays for the baby coat first, pulling out his wallet and handing over two twenties. And it’s not like Louis was spying or anything, but it’s pretty easy to notice that Harry doesn’t have any credit cards in there, and as he hands over the two bills, he sees that there’s quite literally _nothing_ left in there, not a single dollar. If Louis hadn’t been sure before, he’s sure now that he is going to help out. So, with a faked guilty expression, Louis says, “Harry, I totally forgot that I’m out of dish soap at my house, could you go and grab some while I pay for this?”

Harry, looking eager to help out, nods and bounds off in the direction of the soaps. As soon as he’s out of sight, Louis leans over and grabs three hundred-dollar gift cards to this store off the rack and sets them on the counter—his mum is going to be pissed, since he’s paying with her money, but he thinks she’ll understand. “Can you ring these up before he gets back?” he asks. The cashier nods and hurriedly scans them, then watches Louis tuck them into his pocket. Right when he does, Harry comes back around the corner, walking awfully fast for being so pregnant. He dumps the dish soap onto the table after a reassuring smile from Louis.

Louis pays for the two baby toys and then starts walking with Harry outside. “Did you drive here?” he asks Harry.

“Erm, no, took the bus,” he admits. “The stop is right here, though, and the bus should be coming in, like, three minutes. So—Thank you, Louis. Thank you so much.”

Then, before Louis can even react, Harry is wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders in a hug, which is only a bit awkward, mostly because of how he has to twist so his stomach doesn’t impale Louis. It’s sweet, though, and Louis doesn’t ever want it to end—the thought of never seeing Harry again is frightening. It’ll be so hard to not wonder if he’s okay, if his baby is okay, if he doesn’t speak to him after this.

The bus is coming, though, so Harry has to pull away. At the last second, Louis slips the gift cards out of his pocket and drops them into Harry’s shopping bag without his notice, pleased that he didn’t get caught. This is Harry’s gift, and as much as he’d like to see the surprise on his face when he finds it, he knows Harry would probably never take it, if he’d had a hard time accepting a ten dollar baby toy. “Thank you!” Harry calls one last time as he hurries towards the bus while the doors swing open. “I’ll pay you back, I swear!”

That’s the last time Louis hears from Harry for a year.

+

Louis throws his bag and keys onto his kitchen counter, so stressed out from a stupid project he had to do in economics earlier today. He should be going to work now, but he’s so tired that he decides to call in sick. He’s about to sit down on the couch, tuck himself into a blanket, and turn on the TV, when he realizes he forgot to check the mail. Grumbling, he drags himself over to the front door, picking up the pile of papers sitting in the drawer, and finally settles himself on the couch to go through it. _Bill, bill, special offer, bill, letter_?

There, at the bottom of the stack, is an envelope with words written by hand, the return address stating it’s from Harry E. Styles. Harry?

He’d given up hope on talking to Harry again when a few months passed and Harry never called. It’s not that he’d been expecting anything in return—the ten million thank you’s Harry gave in person that day were enough—he was just disappointed that he couldn’t at least be friends with him. It’s been a year, though, meaning Louis stopped thinking about him a long time ago. Still, he feels a rush of excitement when he sees his name on the paper. He tears through it, nearly ripping the letter in half in his rush.

_Dear Louis,_

_This is Harry Styles. You probably don’t remember me, but on the off-chance that you do, I wanted to write you this. We met at the mall downtown last Christmas, when I was practically a THOUSAND pounds. I asked you for help finding baby clothes and you did so much more for me. The toys you bought for Jordan (that’s my son) made me cry enough, but I was an absolute mess when I saw what else you gave me._

_I want to let you know how much you actually helped me out that month. I was seventeen, JUST graduated high school, found out I was pregnant and got dumped by my boyfriend when I told him. I kept it a secret as long as I could after that, but when my parents found out, they told me to find somewhere else to stay. I moved into a shelter, where they kept me fed, gave me a place to sleep, and a weekly “allowance” of $20 for doing chores—Don’t get me wrong, they helped me out a lot, but they could only afford so much. I spent every penny getting ready for Jordan and didn’t have any left for myself._

_When you gave me that three hundred dollars, I could finally open a savings account for my allowance, and I could buy Jordan things with the gift cards instead. After four months, I went to a job interview and was able to pay for the required college class with the money I had in my savings account, and I got the job!_

_That’s why I want to thank you. You made my life a hell of a lot better, and it’s hard to think about where I would be right now if you hadn’t done that for me last year. I hope you know that I’m SO thankful for you._

_I’m living in my own apartment now, I have a great job for such little education, and I can finally pay you back what I owe. I didn’t want to mail it to you in case someone steals it, but if you’d like to meet me somewhere, here’s my phone number: (616) 475-6303_

_Sincerely, Harry_

_(PS, I hope it’s not weird that I’m mailing this? I tried to call the number you gave me and you had obviously changed it since then, so I looked you up in the phone book and then chickened out of calling you. Sorry. I hope we can meet up though, so I can keep my promise!)_

_+_

Louis taps his fingers on the table nervously, straightening out his jacket, taking long sips of his tea in hopes of calming himself down. It’s no use, though, because _Harry_ is going to turn up any minute now.

The café is busy, but it’s not loud, making it the perfect place to meet like this. After Louis had read Harry’s letter, he called him immediately, both of them shedding more than a few tears at the memory of what happened a year ago. It seemed fitting to meet this week, exactly a year later, and it won’t be Christmas or Jordan’s birthday until next week, so Harry is free. He’s bringing Jordan along, too, meaning Louis is filled with double the nerves, though he probably shouldn’t worry about impressing a baby. Just Harry.

When the bell over the door chimes, he doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is, because his heart simultaneously sinks and inflates. “Louis,” he hears, a soft whisper in the bustle of the café. “You’re here.”

He looks up to see Harry standing there, still wearing the same boots but everything else looking so, so different. His hair is still curly, but it’s long now, coming down past his shoulders in looser waves. He’s wearing a coat—thank God—and underneath it is a floral t-shirt with white pants. His face is the same, but somehow looks like he’s aged more than a year—in a good way, though. He supposes you kind of have to when you have a kid. Either way, he looks so good, and if Louis thought he was attractive before, well then…

“It’s so good to see you,” Louis says honestly, standing up so he can give him a quick hug, making sure not to bump into the sleeping baby in Harry’s arms. He’s so cute, a little darker than Harry, with a cute button nose and long eyelashes. He’s wearing a tiny knitted hat and a matching sweater, bundled up in a few blankets. Clutched in his hands with a death grip is the teddy bear blanket Louis had bought him for Christmas. “Oh God, he’s adorable.”

“Why thank you,” Harry giggles. “Made him myself.”

Louis rolls his eyes fondly at the terrible joke, sitting back down and pointing at the second mug on the table. “Wasn’t sure what you like, so I just got you a black coffee.”

Harry sits down too, smiling appreciatively. He empties a packet of creamer into it and takes a sip, then says, “I’m really glad you came. I’ve wanted to pay you back for so long now.”

“You don’t have to,” Louis shakes his head. “I won’t take it, it was a gift.”

Harry looks floored. “Oh. Are you sure? Because, Louis, I’m in a much better place right now. I really _can_ afford to pay you.”

Louis shakes his head again stubbornly. “No, seeing you happy is enough,” he says, and then realizes that might be a little strange to say to someone he’s only met once. It doesn’t feel that way, though, and they _have_ been texting ever since Louis got the letter, but the bottom line is, they’ve only known each other for a short time. He doesn’t bother backtracking, though, just says, “Sorry if that’s a weird thing to say.”

“No, it’s not,” Harry assures, kissing Jordan’s cheek when he starts to fuss in his sleep. “How have you been?”

They start talking about their jobs, their friends, their houses—they talk for so long that it starts getting dark, but thankfully the café is open twenty four hours. Harry brought a bottle for Jordan, and he’s content to either sleep or sit up in Harry’s lap and watch all the people around him. He doesn’t properly cry a single time.

Somewhere along the line, they start talking about relationships. Louis has to confess to still not having a boyfriend, but it’s not too embarrassing because Harry doesn’t either. “I’m not dating anyone,” he says. “But a couple months ago, Jordan’s dad, Zayn, called me and asked if he could see him, and I was really scared that he would get attached and then Zayn would just leave again, but he’s actually—it’s really good. I haven’t let Jordan stay the night or anything, but I might when he’s older. Yeah, I’m happy with it.”

Before they know it, it’s late at night, and Louis reluctantly says that he has class in the morning. “Is it bad if I say I don’t want this to end?” he whispers, looking at Harry and glancing down at his now-asleep-again baby. “All of it.”

“Definitely not,” Harry grins, the familiar dimples poking through. “No, I’d quite like to see you again too.”

+

“Busy, busy, busy week,” Harry mutters, running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, muttering the list of things he has to do today. Louis would be pissed if he knew he was doing chores when he’s sick with one of the worst colds he’s ever had, but tomorrow is Louis’ birthday, then Christmas, then Jordan’s birthday, and there is no time to waste just because of a stupid cough. Louis’ mum, stepdad, and all his sisters and his one brother will be here in just a few hours, and he’s still got _so_ much to do. The dryer beeps as he finishes mixing the ingredients for Louis’ cake, so he drops that and runs down to the basement to fish the clothes out and bring the basket to their bedroom.

“Haz?”

Louis’ voice filters in through the front door, which is just inches away from the kitchen. “Don’t go in there!” Harry screeches, ending with a loud full-body cough. “Stay there!”

He sets the basket on the bed and decides he’ll just have to hide that away in the closet because he won’t have time to fold them. Running back downstairs, he nearly trips on the bottom step and would’ve fallen if it weren’t for the extra wide railing they installed just for his clumsiness. “Jesus, Harry, are you okay?” he hears, and then Louis’ worried face comes into view.

“I’m great,” Harry sighs, brushing his long hair out of his face. He forgot that he was supposed to get a haircut before the whole family shows up.

“I like your hair like this,” Louis pouts, picking up a curl and making him realize he’d said it out loud. “Your voice sounds horrible, Haz, why haven’t you been in bed?”

“Because Jay’s gonna be here in—” he glances at the clock and his eyes bug out of his head. “Oh God, half an hour, I’ve gotta pick up Jordan—actually, can you? I know you had a long day, I just—”

“Of course, of course,” Louis nods, already picking up his car keys again. “See you in ten, babe, love you.”

With Louis gone again, Harry can properly panic without being judged for working while sick. He starts baking the cake again, sticking it in the oven and then starting to make the decorations, all by hand, because he obviously has no brains. Not that he’s bad at it, quite the opposite, really, but it’s so time-consuming, especially when there’s so much else to do.

Still, he manages to finish the cute Louis-lookalike made of fondant that he started earlier just as Louis’ car rolls into the driveway again. Pleased with himself, he wipes his hands on his apron, groaning when he realizes that he’s _not_ , in fact, wearing an apron and will now have to change clothes.

“Dad, Dad, Daddy, guess what!” he hears, a body running full-force at him until he collides with Harry’s stomach. He laughs and grabs onto Jordan’s shoulders so he doesn’t lose his balance.

“Buddy, careful of the stomach, you know that,” Louis says calmly.

Jordan nods very seriously, his eyes crosses with concentration as he leans forward and kisses the tiny baby bump Harry has. “Sorry, sister,” he says like it’s a secret. It’s still far too early to tell, but Jordan has been calling the baby ‘sister’ since the day they told him about it, and it’s too endearing to correct him. “Anyway, Dad, guess where Zayn took me?”

“Um…” Harry presses a finger to his lips like he’s thinking deeply. “To school?”

“No! It’s holiday, silly!”

“Oh, that’s right. Hm. The doctor?”

“No, ew!”

“I don’t know, hon, you’ll just have to tell me.”

“The ice cream parlor! Except we didn’t get ice cream, we got hot chocolate!”

“Woah, very cool!” Harry gasps, though he knew exactly where they had gone and what he’d eaten. It took him a good few years to loosen the reigns on Jordan and let Zayn take him places on his own, but he’s proven himself trustworthy. Still, Harry can’t help being overprotective, and part of that is knowing what they’re going to do whenever Zayn takes him. But it’s a win-win-win situation, because Jordan gets to see his other dad (strangely, he’s never actually called him dad, but that’s probably because he’s already calling Harry ‘dad’ and Louis ‘papa’, and Zayn’s never gotten offended anyway), Harry and Louis get the house to themselves every few weeks, and Zayn gets to spend time with his son. “Did you have fun, J?”

Jordan nods and then scampers away, heading towards his bedroom, probably to change into his ‘formal’ clothes for when company arrives. Even though no one else will be wearing their Sunday Best, Jordan has never turned down and opportunity for a black tie outfit. Once he’s gone, Louis swoops down to, Harry thinks, kiss him, except then he feels his wet tongue licking over his lips. He scrunches his nose as Louis laughs out the word, “Icing.”

“Oh shit, get out of the kitchen!” Harry cries, eyes widening as he realizes all the decorations are still out on display. Thankfully, the main one, the mini Louis statue that took him nearly an hour this morning, is hidden.

As Louis leaves the room cackling, Harry shakes his head and checks the timer on the oven, seeing that he’s got just enough time to change his clothes before it goes off. It takes him a minute to decide, and even longer to rifle through the still-unfolded clothes basket, but eventually he finds a semi-sheer black shirt that he knows Louis loves him in, but is still appropriate enough for a family day. The best part about is that you can see his tiny bump pressed up against the shirt just enough to realize that it’s not just from eating a big meal. He hums and puts a hand on it, so excited to finally be able to announce the news to their family.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, because Harry and Louis have been married for two years now. They wanted to wait until Jordan was old enough to know what was happening and put a stop to it if he didn’t want it. Louis had even asked him for permission before he proposed, which made Harry fall in love with him all over again. Louis’ parents (who, by now, are basically Harry’s parents too, especially since Harry hasn’t talked to his own since he was seventeen) have been constantly asking them whether or not they’re going to have any more kids, and finally Harry is far enough along to tell them he’s pregnant.

“Excited?” Louis asks, coming up behind him and standing on his tip-toes to rest his chin on Harry’s shoulder. It’s quite funny, how much taller Harry is now, when they were both the same height when they met. Louis still hasn’t accepted that he’s the small one, and likes to pretend he’s tall by doing things like this. Harry turns his head a little and accidentally stuffs a mouthful of his hair into Louis’ mouth. As he’s spluttering around the coconut-scented curls, Louis says, “Maybe a haircut would be… Not a horrible idea. But I’ll love you either way.”

Harry rolls his eyes and keeps rubbing his stomach. All the sudden they hear a loud, “Ooh, group hug!” and then Jordan is launching himself at the two of them, wrapping his small arms around their waists. It only lasts for a split second before the sound of the doorbell chiming breaks it up. “Ahh!” Jordan screams, running away so fast that he resembles a cartoon character with his legs pin wheeling on the ground. “I’ve got to put on my tie!”

Harry shakes his head fondly, taking a deep breath and entangling his fingers with Louis’.

“Ready, babe?” Louis smiles as they descend the stairs.

He nods and the doors swing open—Like a stampede, their family is here.

+

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t have to do all this for us!”

Everyone has been here for a few hours, and every now and then Harry and Louis will leave the conversation to go to the kitchen and check on dinner, finally setting it out on the large dining room table and calling everyone in. Jay seems particularly impressed, probably because she knows how bad Louis is at cooking and is grateful that someone in the house knows how to do it. “Don’t thank me, it was all Louis, actually,” he says truthfully. All Harry’d done is sit on the counter and make sure things didn’t boil over or get burnt. The food itself wasn’t so difficult, just chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in Parma ham, with a side of homemade mash. Though Harry did insist that he steam some broccoli, too, so it would be somewhat healthy for the children.

“I’m suprised, I won’t lie,” Jay says, poking at the food suspiciously. Louis shoots her an open-mouthed offended look. “Kidding, babe, I’ll give it a chance.”

“It better be good,” he grumbles, reaching over and cutting Jordan’s chicken up into pieces for him since he’s not allowed to use knives yet. “I make it for Harry all the time.”

Everyone besides Harry and Jordan share a disbelieving glance and reluctantly take their first bite. It takes a second, but eventually they all nod approvingly while Jay says, “Lou, I don’t know how you’ve done it, but this is delicious. Why did you never cook like this for me?”

“For one, I’m not in love with you,” Louis grins cheesily at Harry while he blushes and hides his face. He finishes cutting Jordan’s food and moves to start on his own. After finally being able to eat it, he exclaims, “This is just delightful! Compliments to the chef, whoever it may be!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his husband’s antics and prepares himself for a long weekend of this. When everyone is quiet and sufficiently distracted, Harry looks over at Louis, laughing at his chipmunk-like face stuffed with food, and raises his eyebrows meaningfully. Louis catches on, trying to make his lips form a smile without showing food between his teeth. After patiently waiting for Louis to chew and swallow, Harry says, “Erm, Jay? And everyone else, of course… We’ve got an announcement.”

Jay drops her fork in shock, making the table go silent except the loud clattering noise. The surprise has already been foiled, apparently, though Harry probably should’ve known that they would make the connection, since there’s not much else to announce over family dinner after you’re already married. Still, mostly for his oblivious father-in-law and all the teenagers, Harry says, with an uncontained smile on his face, “We’re having a baby.”

“Sister!” Jordan cuts in, looking at his dads for confirmation.

“Buddy, we don’t know that—”

He’s interrupted by everyone’s loud congratulations and a few sobs as people jump out of their chairs and try to hug him and feel the baby even though there’s practically nothing to feel yet. Harry makes eye contact with Louis from across the table and feels his chest bursting with love when he sees the fond look on his face. “Love you,” Louis mouths, while keeping a watchful eye on his over-eager sisters who don’t quite understand how careful they should be right now.

When everyone finally backs away and retreats to their chairs, Jordan hops up into Harry’s lap and puts his own hands on his tummy. “Sister is sleeping now, but she’ll be here soon. Right, Dad?” Harry nods, because he doesn’t feel like crushing Jordan’s dreams by telling him that he’ll have to wait quite a bit longer than he’s imagining. “Can I eat here?”

Louis passes Jordan’s plate along to Harry so they can both eat together. “Just for a minute, love,” Louis says. “Don’t want to hurt his back, okay?”

The whole family coos at their interaction, making Harry blush again.

Despite how many years it’s been, he still can’t believe he’s stumbled upon not only the perfect son, the love of his life, and an ever-supportive new family, but now he’s got another little one on the way too. Yes, it will definitely be a long weekend, but Harry wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/criticism/kudos are lovely if you have time to leave one :)  
> (By the way, I'm at homelyrics.tumblr.com if you want to say hi!)


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